By 9:00 a.m., I’ve already lost count of how many times I’ve reminded someone to take a bite, take their pills, get dressed, brush their teeth, or please, for the love of Nutella, pack their bag.
Not because they’re defiant. Not because they haven’t tried. Not because they don’t care.
It’s because they actually need parallel support through every single task.
This is what it means to parent two neurodivergent kids when you’re neurodivergent yourself. When simple demands take an exorbitant amount of time because of how your brain is wired. When your biological makeup is anchored in interest-based motivation. When your natural tendency is autonomy and control.
What you don’t see is that every morning feels like Groundhog Day with a twist of chaos. And after years of experiments, we still struggle. Every day.
And before you ask, yes, we've tried everything: visual calendars, token systems, earlier wake-ups, natural consequences, behavioural therapy, occupational therapy.
We’ve invested thousands of dollars to make our home voice-accessible through a fully-automated smart home that talks to us more than I talk to my own husband. Verbal cues go off 15 minutes before every transition. None of it sticks. None of it works long-term.
Here’s why: neurodivergent kids aren't being “difficult.” Their brains are wired differently when it comes to planning, organizing, managing emotions, and remembering what to do next. These are executive functions and in kids with ADHD or autism, these functions develop more slowly.
So when my kid can’t get dressed, pack their bag, or move to the next task without me literally by their side giving step-by-step reminders, it’s not laziness or opposition. They genuinely can’t do it consistently yet. Their brain hasn’t developed the internal systems to manage that kind of load.
This isn’t just anecdotal. Research shows that delays in executive functioning are a hallmark of many neurodevelopmental conditions—they’re not a sign of defiance or bad parenting. (Child Mind Institute)
And so now, most mornings, we settle for Nutella.
Sometimes from a spoon. Sometimes from a container with pretzels. Sometimes we make ice cream sundaes just to sneak in some fruit or chia seeds for digestion.
It’s not lazy parenting. It’s survival. And it’s a conscious choice I make every day.
Because if I spend all my energy forcing a “balanced breakfast,” or nagging every 5 minutes to take a bite, or spending 20 minutes sorting through sensory preferences to find the “right” outfit for focus, there will be nothing left when they go full PDA over socks.
So yes, sometimes they go to school in pajamas. Sometimes they go hungry because no one was there to spoon-feed them through the sensory overwhelm.
I’ve accepted the trade-offs. I’ve had to. I make the conscious decision to preserve my own energy instead of trying to control every meltdown, every refusal, every forgotten step.
Because I have a nervous system too. And it's threadbare. And I refuse to live in a home filled with yelling and punishment for children who are not consistently capable. Just like I’m not consistently capable.
I have to start work at 9:00 a.m. in a regulated state. And they don’t leave the house until 8:45 because of their ridiculously late school bell. And no, I cannot put them in before-school care. We’ve tried. It left us with days filled with isolation, self-harm, and aggression.
And after four years of trying to find in-home help, I can tell you: it doesn’t exist.
The moment they walk back in the door, the loop begins again. Dinner? Homework? Bath? Meltdown? Melt into my arms and start over? Repeat.
My marriage is struggling, not because we don’t love each other, but because there is simply no time left for each other. Every minute is firefighting, caregiving, recovering, planning the next crisis. Connection is a luxury we can only afford when services are available. And in Ontario, the waitlists are 5–7 years.
Meanwhile, I’m managing my own brain, sensory sensitivities, executive dysfunction, and a fatigue that builds every single day like an invisible weight.
This is why we outsource. Because we have the privilege to.
Groceries. Laundry. Meals. Anything we can afford to hand off, we do. Because finding neurodivergent-affirming childcare or therapy is like finding a unicorn during a tornado.
There is no break for the neurodivergent parent.
And the toll is real.
A survey by the Harris Poll for Understood.org found that 94% of parents with neurodivergent children report high levels of stress and anxiety about school transitions and IEPs. (Understood.org)
And a study from the University of Wisconsin-Madison found that mothers of autistic children experience chronic stress levels comparable to combat soldiers. This isn’t just emotional. It affects our bodies, our hormones, our sleep, our immune systems. (Disability Scoop)
This isn’t just hard. It’s survival mode.
So if I seem like I’m barely holding it together, it’s because I am.
And if you’re reading this and thinking, same, you’re not alone. You are seen. You are surviving a system that was never built for us while trying to raise kids in it. That is no small thing.
And I’m here, telling you: You don’t have to parent the way the world expects you to. You are allowed to choose regulation over conformity. You are allowed to build a life that works for your brain, and theirs.
Because if you want to succeed at work and at home, it has to work for all the different brains that play a part.
References:
Sadozai, A. K., et al. (2024). Executive Function in Children With Neurodevelopmental Conditions.
Harris Poll / Understood.org. (2023).
Disability Scoop. (2009). Autism Moms Experience Stress Similar to Combat Soldiers.
This content reflects my personal lived experience as an adult diagnosed with ADHD, Autism Spectrum Disorder, Auditory Processing Disorder, and Sensory Processing Disorder. It is intended to raise awareness, foster understanding, and invite dialogue. I am not a medical or clinical professional, and nothing shared here should be considered medical or psychological advice. All data and statistics cited are for educational purposes only and are publicly sourced. This post does not represent the views of my employer or any affiliated organizations.
